


Reskilling, and its Affects on Employee Morale

by alliedwolves



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Dehumanization, Mind Control, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23444626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alliedwolves/pseuds/alliedwolves
Summary: Tim's scene from Outreach and Application of Institute Resources:At a party at the Lukas estate, Tim is told to go have a good time. He does. However, there's a few questions that linger with him for as long as they're allowed.Tim doesn't remember Grimaldi. Nikola remembers him.
Relationships: Agnes Montague/Jude Perry, Elias Bouchard & Tim Stoker, Michael "Mike" Crew/Tim Stoker
Comments: 15
Kudos: 54
Collections: The_Magnusquerade





	Reskilling, and its Affects on Employee Morale

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Outreach and Application of Institute Resources](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23386996) by [Nevanna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevanna/pseuds/Nevanna). 



Tim was having a great time.

Elias and Martin were somewhere else, and he had to admit, he’d had more to drink than he remembered because he barely remembered them heading off, up the stairs and away from the main party. And what a fucking party it was!

There was a part of him insisting it was _a normal party, fun and light and easy_ and part very quietly sure this wasn’t normal. Probably it was because there wasn’t much music, or because it was such an eclectic mix of people? Or maybe it was just that good.

Mike hadn't known anybody either. They'd necked a little more, but then Mike had pulled away, took his hand, and taken him over to a little crowd.

They seemed young in some way Tim couldn’t put his finger on, young and hungry for something. Some, like Mike, floated like they didn’t need to use their feet. Some bore matching tattoos like writhing, twisting flames. Some had knife-like heels and pockets filled with knives and something in him was sure they were sharp, like their nails and their laughter and their fangs. When they pulled him close, their hands bit into his wrists, and they let him let him tilt his head up, before they drank deep. 

He’d always been good with names, and charm, and kisses. He wasn’t usually this foggy at this point in the evening, the flirty, fun parts where you chatted and kissed and decided what and who you wanted, but no one seemed to be judging him for it! And his ~~master.~~ His boss. His boss had said to go have a good time, and why shouldn’t he?

Jude drank from him, and none of this cluster of partygoers blushed but nonetheless heat like a feverish furnace choked him from his neck, and pulled at his cheek where she patted him goodbye, headed back to stand by Agnes.

Agnes had beautiful hair, red and sombre, like her smile. She shook her head when Jude pointed him out, glided on. 

Tom liked how calm and unassuming he was, he mumbled in a posh undertone, right below his ear.

Annabelle liked the sound of her own voice, and Tim found himself speaking her words when she drank from him so her conversation with another guest, one she didn’t introduce, flowed seamlessly on as she drank. She let him have his tongue back after a kiss on the forehead, right where a webbed scar stood out on her own.

Mike seemed to be glad he’d brought Tim over, demurring when asked if Tim was his, introducing himself, and after a few bites, introducing Tim, too, to those that were drinking from him. Tim was giddy, and his tongue wasn’t always cooperating, though his body was.

By the time Mike introduced Sarah, who made fascinated, wide eyed eye contact, and dashed off without sipping from him ( _his purpose, why he was here, but it was okay there were more, he was wanted, here came another)_ he needed to half sit on a tall stool to stay on his feet.

“ _Tim_? Tim **Stoker**?”

The voice cut through the hall with its sharp edges and sense of command. Sarah had run to the side of a tall woman too camp and kitsch to be glamorous, to be anything other than who she was. She strode over, the crowd parting to let her through, and to watch. The ringmaster’s hat she was wearing may not entirely be an affection, Tim thought muzzily. She ran the show.

There was something about that that made his stomach clench into a fist.

She got right up in his face, long, too long, fingers holding him under his chin and pulling him up. If he weighed more to her than a cluster of grapes, she didn’t show it. Her eyes, he noticed, didn’t quite match, two different shades of red. Crimson and burgundy.

He strained to notice, to take everything in about this Stranger. She laughed, too many sounds coming out of her throat at once, and didn’t put him down.

“Hullo, stranger! Fancy seeing you at a party like this~! At least, without some kind of a fight!”

Tim’s heart beat faster, his stomach clenching even tighter, even as he remembered he was _having a great time, wanted to be here, all was normal, fine, good, he was very good…_

“I don’t know you.” Tim hadn’t meant it to come out so harsh.

She blinked. Was he imagining that it was ever so slightly out of sync?

“Don’t you remember? I suppose I _did_ look very different back then. Maybe a blast from the past would jog your memory! But who to be? Grimaldi was such a special occasions look, and a _Lukas_ party is **hardly** that.”

When she held him up, his feet dangled, despite how tall he was. Her arm didn’t move, but he realised his toes were starting to touch the floor, her fishnet shirt starting to strain against new-formed muscles, her trousers to gather at her ankles….

“Maybe I should be your brother! _He_ ought to be familiar.”

He knew the face she wore. It was familiar as his own, despite his not having seen Danny since. Since.

He growled in his throat a little as he tried to puzzle it out. When had he last seen Danny? She watched him with mismatching red eyes in his brother’s face, grip holding firm though the pressure was off, his feet flat on the floor.

She tutted at him.

“Elias really _does_ have your mind on lockdown, doesn’t he? Maybe we should go for a stroll, and _reminisce_ for a while, hmmmm~?”

Tim didn’t need to think about his answer. “No. No thank you.”

Mike stepped in for him. “Elias said he shouldn’t leave, anyway.”

Danny’s face pouted.

“Do you _always_ do what E _lia_ s says to do? How _Booooring._ I bet your _**master** _is proud of you.”

She seemed to ponder what to do now, as Tim’s guts loosened a little, knowing he was doing what he’d been ordered, let anyone who wanted to drink from him have as much as they wanted. Wasn’t leaving the ballroom. Warmth and confusion and a strange, dissociative happiness filled him.

She held him far enough away that he couldn’t help but take her all in, looking like Danny in a ringmaster’s cap, a fishnet shirt, a too-long, too-narrow houndstooth blazer, and long blue pants. After Not-Danny was sure she had his attention, she raised a calloused hand, gave a slow, finger-waggling wave.

“Hullo, Elias! I have _no_ doubt you’re going to look back through his memories and play them back to him later! You can have this lovely memory of pain for free, you know, _Nikola,_ the Great _Grimaldi,_ wearing Danny’s face~! What a _loverly_ time you and Tim can have together. Enjoy it while it lasts!”

Danny smiled at him, and his breath caught: it was that same exasperated look his brother had had when he’d told a joke that didn’t land. Exactly the same. Then Danny leaned in and bit him, and his eyelid fluttered as the venom took hold of him and his mind swam with a need for more.

He staggered back when she released him, into Mike’s arms, and she shaped herself back into the form she’d came over in, into Nikola, taking off her hat and pinning it firmly into Tim’s shock of hair like a party favour. She didn’t look back.

The Hunt clan came over to chat after that, actually wanting to talk to him rather than drink, and were very understanding when he found himself stumbling over blank spots in his head. One of them, an older man who didn’t introduce himself, went over to talk to the ringmaster when he didn’t have anything useful to say, but the others, they drank, and chatted with the Slaughter clan. 

It wasn’t long after that Martin and their master were back, and it was good they did, since Tim’s head was swimming too much to be able to serve as a blood vassal (ha!) much longer.

“Hey, boss!” Tim called. “Lisa, here, wants to know if I ever hunted any vampires.”

“And what did you tell her?” Elias asked. Elias took his arm like he was an elderly aunt at the Christmas party who’d been at the sherry again, courteous and careful.

“Told her I didn’t remember.” Tim’s voice caught. “Why can’t I remember?”

“We can talk about it another day.” Tim sighed. That was an end of that, he supposed. Elias was insistent in deed as he was in word, nodding a thanks to Mike and letting Tim find his feet again. They’d gone walkabout. “I’ve paid my respects to our host, and now it’s time for us to go.”

“Hope you lot had as good a time as I did!” He turned back to Mike, only one finger gun available to him with Elias gripping his arm. He hoped that conveyed sufficient rakish charm. Judging by the smile spread over Mike’s face, he was _pretty sure_ it landed. Tim grinned back. “Let’s do this again sometime, handsome. _Call me_.” To Elias, he proclaimed, “Nobody at work is gonna _believe_ you know where to find a party like this.”

Elias’s thoughts soothed over his mind, letting him know how _very, very_ good he’d been. He felt his Boss’s interest at the snippet of the head of the stranger clan coming very close to making a threat against him through his thrall.

“More flies with honey than vinegar, hmmm?” Tim heard Elias mumble, and then it wasn’t important anymore. Nothing involving the Stranger or Lisa or Sarah and Nikola and Danny was left to remember.

Tim yawned, and let himself be guided into curling up, his head and Martin’s in Elias’s lap as they drove into the late night.

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by/ acts as a "missing scene" from Nevanna's work Outreach and Application of Institute Resources https://archiveofourown.org/works/23386996 
> 
> The Magnusquerade is a wonderful sandbox, and I'm glad I could contribute


End file.
